


Sunshine

by WillowsRambles



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 18:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19138477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowsRambles/pseuds/WillowsRambles
Summary: You are my sunshine,My only sunshine.You make me happy,When skies are grey.You'll never know, dear,How much I love you ...So please don't takeMy sunshine away.





	Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the infamous song by Jimmie Davis.

Red Wine had always hated the sun.

 

At least, that’s what he had always told himself. Really, he should be appreciating the clouds that covered the sky, twisting and swirling and blotting out the light. The scent of rain lay heavy and thick on the wind; no amount of it, however, could mask the stench of blood soaked into the ground. It was revolting, sickening, dizzying. When the rain begins, it will mix with the blood and ruin his clothes and his hair, wash away the blood-scent to reveal the smell of death that hung heavy on the trampled blades of grass like a mist. The very thought made him want to vomit, yet he could not move.

 

There were the signs of ruin all around him; upturned earth, felled trees, and the torn corpses of Fallen Angels. Red Wine took a step forward, then another, as if bid to move like a puppet. There, laying on the ground in such contrast to the carnage around them, was the knight that he had grown used to seeing by his side, for better or for worse. The fiery Food Soul looked peaceful. He might have even appeared to be sleeping, if not for his battered clothing and a gaping wound at his side. They had lost their healer long ago. There was nothing to save him now.

 

Red Wine wasn’t sure when he had dropped onto his knees, or when he had pulled the bastard knight’s body into his arms. He could feel the blood seeping through his gloves, his pants, his sleeves, twisting his stomach into nauseating eddies, but he still did not move. Steak's face was serene, beautiful even. His muscles were relaxed, and there was no trace of any sort of irritation or aggression on his face. Red Wine was sure he had never seen the other swordsman without even the slightest crease between his brows, not even when they were drunk and barely keeping each other upright. His lashes were unexpectedly long, his lips surprisingly dainty. How odd it was, to have known the knight for decades upon decades, possibly centuries — he had lost count — and only now notice these features. It pulled at his heart somehow. Guilt? Shame? Regret? These were not emotions he had much experience with, let alone in regards to the brash warrior in his arms.

 

“...Stop that,” the knight’s voice rasped. Red Wine blinked, roused from his thoughts. Steak's ruby eyes were unfocused and hazy, but he was awake. “You’re wrinkling your nose like there’s rotten eggs embedded under my skin.” His mouth and throat hardly moved, and Red Wine had to strain to hear him over the bubbling of blood in every unsteady breath he drew in. “...More unsightly than normal.”

 

“You… Imbecile,” Red Wine scoffed, frowning down at him, though he was sure it seemed more like a grimace. “You’re dying and you still can’t say anything nice.”

 

The knight gave a hoarse laugh that almost instantly collapsed into a weak coughing fit. Blood coated his hand and his lips when he finally stopped, struggling to breathe through his nose. 

 

“Save your breath, bastard, there’s still time —”

 

“Red.”

 

“— Gingerbread will be coming with support, don’t —  _ listen to me, _ don’t close your eyes —”

 

“Red...” His voice came as a soft sigh. Red Wine’s eyes widened as Steak weakly reached up to brush his fingertips against his cheekbone. “You’re… crying.” He breathed.

 

“N-no, I’m not.” Red Wine jerked away, taking the knight’s hand in his own. “It’s raining.” He was lucky that it was indeed raining, as a drop of liquid, whether it was rainwater or a tear, landed on the knight’s cheek. His eyelids barely even fluttered at the impact.

 

“Listen…” He murmured. “Madam would… wanted you to live. Take… care of Ginger. And… others. Proved your worth so far… don’t disappoint me.”

 

“What are you saying?” Red Wine hissed, clutching his hand tighter. “Stop talking like that, bastard. The cold is getting to you.” Cold… 

 

All at once, the uneasiness he had been feeling lurched forward, slamming against the wall of his guts. Cold. Steak’s hand was growing cold. His irresistible warmth, that warmth that blazed like the sun and made him shine so brilliantly, so beautifully, was evaporating like wisps on the wind. It seemed that as Steak’s body grew colder, the rain only grew heavier. How fitting that as the sun in Red Wine’s life was robbed from him, he would be replaced by grey skies.

 

“Steak, listen.” He was fading. “After all these years…”

 

“Red Wine.” His voice was barely audible. “I… don’t regret.”

 

What could he possibly say in response? “I know.” 

 

“Steak?”

 

Silence. 

 

_ Forgive me, Master Attendant. I’ve failed your last wish. _

**Author's Note:**

> This was real fun to write :')


End file.
